The Masks We Wear
by haligh24
Summary: AU week! Bering and Wells! Story starts in high school, but doesn't end there.
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** The Masks We Wear

**Rating:** T, for now, I think.

**Summary:** AU week! Bering and Wells! Story starts in high school, but doesn't end there.

**Notes:** So, I'm still writing A Scythe of My Own, but my girlfriend told me it was AU week (I hope I didn't miss it?) and I really wanted to participate. (Sidebar: I think I need to get on tumblr... I just end up looking over her shoulder at everything anyway.) This was supposed to be pretty short, but, apparently, I'm incapable of that. This will be part one of (I think) two. Angst warning plus some mention of/allusion to bullying and underage drinking.

"Come out, Myka," H.G.'s exasperated voice filtered through the dressing room door.

Myka sighed at her reflection and tugged on the hem of her dress once more. She regarded the image in the mirror critically. Her curls were almost always impossible to tame, so her hair was pulled back tightly (as usual). She thought her limbs still looked too long for her body, but she had to admit she had grown a bit more proportional in the past year or so. Her face was... fine, she supposed. Nothing special.

This dress, however, was... certainly something. H.G. had picked it out for her, insisting she try it on. Strapless, form fitting, bright red and, because of the length of Myka's legs, very short- it certainly wasn't the type of garment Myka would normally select for herself.

"I- I don't think it really fits," Myka called back, "I can just come back with my mom next week."

"Myka," the other girl whined, her voice sounding closer now, "just come on out and let me see." Myka smiled, picturing the annoyed expression she was sure H.G. was wearing as she leaned up against the door.

"Alright, fine," the smile slipped off her face, "but you can't laugh." She wasn't even sure why she was so nervous. Sure, the dress was a bit tight and very short, but she had been in a bathing suit in front of the other girl countless times. Myka nodded to herself, gathering her courage.

"Cross my heart," H.G. offered from outside the door, "Though, I suppose, being a devout atheist, that idiom probably doesn't-" The words died on H.G.'s lips as the door swung open. Something foreign burned inside Myka's belly when H.G.'s eyes widened ever so slightly. Her friend didn't say anything for a long beat, just looked Myka up and down with an unreadable expression.

"You hate it," Myka felt her face flush as she turned quickly to re-enter the safety of the dressing room. H.G. grabbed the edge of the door before it could close.

"Myka, wait," she said finally, "I don't hate it, you just took me by surprise. Now turn around so I can judge it properly. Please?" Myka felt foolish and confused.

"Sorry," she breathed, back still to the other girl, "I just- getting dressed up makes me so _uncomfortable_."

"I know," H.G. replied quickly, "and I hate to think I've added to your discomfort." Myka sighed, knowing how true those words were. Since moving to South Dakota five years ago, H.G. had become her closest friend- though she would never tell that to Pete, her BFF (his choice of phrase, not hers) since first grade. Myka closed her eyes for just a moment, willing the blush to fade, before she turned around.

"You really look beautiful, Myka," H.G. said quietly, sincerely, and it did nothing to quell the warmth in Myka's cheeks.

"It's not too short?" She checked, self-consciously tugging the dress as far down as she could. H.G. shook her head in response.

"You really like it? I feel like I'm not even me," Myka crossed her arms in front of her body.

"Nonsense, you're definitely you. Besides, it's _prom_," H.G. nodded with finality, "When else can we get dressed to the nines?" Myka grinned before becoming thoughtful.

"You're sure you don't mind going without a date?" She checked, not for the first time, "I'm sure one of Pete's friends would love to take you." It had been sweet, the way that Pete had insisted they go together. It was glaringly obvious that no one would ask Myka; H.G. and Pete were her only friends. She knew he could have had his pick of girls, being captain of the football _and_ wrestling teams, but he had shrugged it off. He claimed it was a BFF necessity and if she said "no," it would break his heart.

"Those neanderthals?" H.G. scoffed in a way that was uniquely hers, "No, thank you. I'm perfectly capable of attending a dance on my own. I refuse to lower my standards just because there are no suitable, available options."

"_Available_?" Myka felt her face light up with the teasing, "Why, Ms. Wells, do you have a crush? Actual _feelings_ for a boy? I'm scandalized!" Helena made a face that was part grimace and part scowl before dropping her gaze.

"I didn't mean it like _that_, Myka," she shook her head. Myka's chest tightened at the sight of the girl in front of her. She was such an idiot sometimes- why had she said that?

"Helena," she said awkwardly, reaching out to gently grasp her friend's upper arm, "I- I'm sorry. I didn't- that was-"

"It's fine," she said with a shaky inhale, "I just- Sometimes, I feel like a bit of a freak-"

"You're not," Myka interrupted with conviction, stepping closer as she brought both hands up to H.G.'s shoulders, "Cross my heart." She quirked up one side of her mouth, hoping the familiar gesture would reassure the other girl. Helena's eyes were pained for a few moments more before she looked down and stepped away.

"Come on, let's get that dress paid for," Myka detected false brightness in her tone, "and then, I believe you owe me some chips."

"Fries," Myka muttered at her friend's retreating form before heading back to the changing room to take off the troublesome dress.

/

The night of the prom came faster than Myka would've liked it to- school was absolutely flying by these days. Though she had to practically beg teachers to give her enough assignments to satisfy her thirst for knowledge, she couldn't deny that there was an energy among the senior class that had everyone floating. The melodic ring of the doorbell pulled Myka from her thoughts and she hopped up from the couch.

"I got it!" She called, knowing her attempt at keeping her parents away was futile. She pulled open the heavy door to reveal a grinning Pete Lattimer. And Trevor Ross. _Trevor Ross? What was he doing here?_

"Pete?" She narrowed her eyes and drew out the 'e' in his name the same way she always did when he did something stupid.

"Woah, Mykes," his eyes were suddenly wide, "you're _hot_!" She tried to ignore the way he said it- like the notion that she could be attractive had taken him by complete surprise. She grabbed him by the collar of his tux, sparing a tight smile for Trevor, and pulled him into the living room.

"What the hell is Trevor doing here?" The words came out as a whispered hiss.

"Take it easy, Mykes," he shrugged out of her grasp, "His date got sick at the last minute and I figured he could go with H.G." Pete looked pleased with himself.

"And did you think to _ask_ H.G. if she wanted a date?" Myka asked, glancing back at Trevor, who had let himself in and was awkwardly hovering by the door.

"Didn't think it would be a big deal," Pete shrugged, "I figured she'd be happy to not be a third wheel."

"She wasn't _going to be_ a third wheel," Myka felt her voice raising and willed herself to calm down. She sighed and shook her head as her mother came bustling into the room, camera around her neck.

"If she kicks your ass," Myka jabbed a finger at Pete's chest, "I'm not going to stop her."

"Fair," Pete nodded, "Hey! I brought you a corsage!" Myka grinned begrudgingly and punched him in the arm.

"You clean up alright, Lattimer," she told him fondly, ignoring his protest at being hit, before walking over to Trevor.

"Sorry, Trevor, come on in," she tried to be polite, but the boy's presence was still bothering her, "I didn't know you were coming."

"Pete said that he asked," Trevor sulked, glaring at his buddy, "sorry." Pete, meanwhile, had picked up Myka's mom with a bearhug and was spinning her in a circle.

"Don't worry about it," Myka offered, ushering him in.

"I'll be right back with those cookies, dear, just make yourself comfortable," she heard her mother say as she made her way back to the kitchen.

"I always do!" Pete called back, hopping over the back of the couch and landing in a casual, reclined position with practiced ease. Myka shook her head at him.

"You're going to wrinkle your tux," she chided gently. Pete merely shrugged in response.

"Knock, knock," Myka smiled broadly as soon as she heard H.G.'s voice drift across the room. She spun around quickly to greet her friend, hoping the addition of _Trevor_ wouldn't spoil their night. She hadn't been prepared for the sight of H.G. dressed up and her stomach dropped uncomfortably.

Helena was stunning (_literally_ stunning, apparently, as she realized she hadn't moved or said anything) in a little black dress. Myka felt something she couldn't place, probably jealousy, as she studied the girl in front of her. The dress wasn't quite as short as Myka's, but a well-placed slit exposed her thigh impossibly high. The neckline dipped low and Myka wondered how she had gotten it to drape so perfectly.

"Are you alright?" H.G. asked, walking toward her.

"Yeah," she sputtered, grabbing the back of her neck, "I'm fine. That dress is… really awesome. I, um, I'm jealous." Why was she being so weird? She tried to swallow down the butterflies that had suddenly taken up residence inside her.

"Thank you, Myka," Helena beamed, "and you look as lovely as ever."

"Damn, Trevor," Pete said loudly, sitting up on the couch, "I'm pretty sure we're going to have the hottest dates at the prom. Glad I invited you, huh?" Myka rolled her eyes, but didn't turn away from H.G.

She watched as her friend finally noticed the two boys waiting by the couch. When Helena's face tightened, registering her obvious displeasure at Trevor's appearance, Myka found herself smiling perversely. Trevor was a good looking guy, she had to admit, and part of her assumed that Helena would be happy to have him as a date. But why was she so pleased that H.G. seemed as put off by him as she did? Myka sighed, trying to clear her thoughts with a shake of her head.

"Mom," she called, walking back to the couch, "we want to get going. Let's take these pictures, I guess." The night already wasn't going the way she thought it would and she was anxious to get it over with.

Alright, alright," her mother replied, carrying a plate of cookies into the room, "we'll just take a few, Myka. You all look so grown up." She smiled fondly at Pete who was holding a corsage awkwardly out toward Myka. She rolled her eyes again and thrust out her arm. Pete grinned and slipped the flower around her wrist.

"I, uh, got you one, too," she whipped her head around as she heard Trevor's deep voice boom behind her. He looked hopeful as he, like Pete had, held a corsage out toward his date. Except, unlike Pete, Trevor had opted for the pinnable type of flower. She almost laughed out loud as she saw H.G. almost imperceptibly snarl before sighing, seemingly resigned to her fate.

"I went for the wrist option," Pete whispered in her ear, "I figured you'd punch me if I got anywhere near your chestal region."

Myka gave him a little shove before registering the full weight of his words and turning her attention to the scene in front of her. If Trevor made any moves, she would… do… something. She pursed her lips, not knowing what she would actually do. Luckily for her (and Trevor), she didn't have to figure it out because the boy pinned the corsage quickly and without any obvious incident.

"Lattimer," Myka flinched as she heard her father's voice.

"Hey, Mr. Bering," Pete waved happily, "how's it going?" He was convinced that Myka's parents thought of him as the son they never had. While that was probably true for her mother, her father often seemed to barely tolerate his shenanigans.

"I shouldn't have to say this," he growled, walking over, "but if anything happens to my daughter, don't bother coming back. Got it?"

"10-4, sir," Pete nodded, "Hey, this is my buddy Trevor. He's gonna be H.G.'s date." Myka watched as her father nodded his acknowledgement of the other boy.

"Hello, Trevor," the boy held out his hand and her father took it, "Just so we're clear, the same goes for you, son." Myka knew she should probably be embarrassed by her father's behavior, but it mostly just made her happy to hear him act so protective of H.G. and her.

Her dad had been charmed by Helena since the very first time he met her. Even as a thirteen year old, H.G. had been all grace and sophistication. They had discussed literature while Myka awkwardly tried to get a word in edgewise.

"My white knight," H.G. faux swooned and her father actually cracked a genuine smile.

"Ok, kids," her mother clasped the camera around her neck, "go over by the mantle."

"Where's Trace?" Pete wondered as they walked across the room.

"Oh, she left a little while ago," Myka explained, "She's going with Bradford Dawson."

"Seriously? She's a _freshman_ and he's even more popular than _me_," Pete's eyebrows shot up. Myka just shrugged her response, not really wanting to talk about her sister. H.G. must have sensed her discomfort, because she was by her side in an instant.

"Come on," she grasped Myka's hand with a squeeze, "let's get a girls photo first, yes?" Myka couldn't stop the grin from taking over her face as she nodded.

Helena's hand snaked around her waist, so Myka brought her arm up around the other girl's shoulders. She felt suddenly overwhelmed by the smooth skin under her fingertips and the closeness of H.G. at her side. She swallowed and tightened the hold on her friend.

"Ok, smile girls," her mother called in a singsong voice. And Myka actually smiled. She ignored the weirdness she has been feeling lately and just focused on how great it was to be there with her best friend. How safe and truly _happy_ she felt.

"Gorgeous," her mom praised and Helena gave her waist an extra squeeze.

The rest of the photos went by as smoothly as could be expected. Her mom seemed to have an endless combination of poses and configurations for them to grit their teeth and smile through.

Soon enough, the foursome found themselves climbing excitedly into a limo. Though she head figured to have a mediocre time at prom, Myka had to admit that this part was kind of exciting.

"Ladies first," Trevor said, smoothly producing a flask from his jacket pocket and offering it his date. If H.G. was surprised at all by his actions, she didn't let it show. She merely smiled her thanks and took a long pull from the metal container. Myka, meanwhile, could feel her eyebrows raising up to her hairline.

"Don't look so shocked, Mykes," Pete nudged her and pulled out a flash of his own, "it's _prom_! Everyone gets wasted- it's like a coming of age tradition. I seriously think even your dad would approve of this."

"You know that's not true," Myka countered, narrowing her eyes at him.

"Ok, probably not," Pete unscrewed the cap and thrust the flask into her hands, "but poppa's not here."

"Yes, Myka," H.G. piped up from across the limo, "let's loosen up for the evening. You've let your hair down literally, now shall we let it down figuratively?" Helena lifted the container once more in a mock toast, her eyes sparkling with mirth.

Myka studied her for a long beat, before sighing in defeat. She supposed a few sips wouldn't hurt. They both leaned forward to clink their flasks together. Myka held Helena's gaze as she took a few swallows of alcohol. The liquid burned uncomfortably as it traveled down her throat, but she fought the urge to cough.

"Thatta girl," Pete gave her a soft slap on the back before taking the flask and tipping it back for a long pull, "Owwwww!" The sound came out as sort of a hybrid howl/yell and Myka couldn't help but laugh at him. Maybe prom wouldn't be so terrible after all.

/

Myka sat alone at a large, round table, running her finger around the rim of a water glass. Prom, so far, hadn't been bad, but it was starting to get boring. She'd had just enough alcohol in the limo that she was nervous about coming across as drunk in front of the chaperones. To compensate, she'd tried to seem as uptight as possible throughout dinner. She didn't say much, mostly just listened to Helena as she made up stories about the couples that surrounded them.

Now, however, the effects of the alcohol seemed to be wearing off and she couldn't find any of the people she came with. A few minutes ago, Pete had come by to check on her. She told him she was perfectly happy, and gladly accepted a glass of spiked punch.

She was in the middle of a long sip when H.G. bonelessly draped her body in the chair next to her. She saw the girl's mouth move, but with the din of the crowd and the way the light was reflecting softly off Helena's hair, Myka realized she had no idea what her friend has said.

"Hmm? What did you say?" She had found herself doing that a lot lately. She would get distracted by the way Helena's accent sounded pronouncing a certain word or how her eyes would turn fiery when she defended a book she loved and she would have to ask the girl to repeat herself. It made Myka feel rude, like a bad friend, but it seemed to amuse H.G. endlessly.

"I asked if you'd like to dance," she smirked.

"Helena," Myka giggled, feeling warm as she nudged the girl with her shoulder, "it's a slow song- we can't." H.G. looked momentarily deterred, but then grinned wickedly and nudged back.

"And why ever can't we? Our dates are off getting pissed and I fancy a dance," Myka realized her friend wasn't kidding and that unnameable pull deep within her stomach flared up again. She shook her head, looking down.

"You goof," she tried to keep her tone light, "everyone would stare."

"So?" Myka glanced up to find brown eyes staring back at her, challenging her, "Let them. In case you haven't noticed, people have been staring at you all night. You're gorgeous." Myka dropped her head once more, feeling a familiar warmth flood her cheeks.

"If they've looked this way, it's at you- not me," Myka protested, sipping more of her punch, "And if you want to dance, I bet any of these guys would trip over each other to offer their arm."

"Yes, well, that's the problem, isn't it?" Helena sighed, standing up abruptly, "I don't fancy a dance with any of _them_, do I?" With that, the girl strode purposefully toward the bathroom, leaving Myka, and her alcohol-addled brain, to ponder just exactly what had happened.

/

"Are you mad at me or something?" Myka asked, stumbling forward as she leaned in close to Helena to be heard over the noise of the party.

The boys had met them when the dance ended and they had certainly been _pissed_, as H.G. liked to say. Trevor slurred, inviting them all to Bradford's post-prom party and telling them how awesome it was going to be. For some strange reason, Myka found herself easily agreeing to the invitation. Helena had been distant- agreeing to the party, but not saying much else. Once they arrived, she split from the group and Myka hadn't seen her for the past hour.

"No, Myka," Helena sighed, taking a sip of beer.

"You _seem_ mad," Myka swayed and grabbed the wall to steady herself. It occurred to her that perhaps she had a few too many beers, but it seemed easier to keep drinking from the party's never-ending keg then to think about anything.

"Are you drunk?" H.G. finally turned to look at her.

"Maybe," Myka giggled, taking another swig, "You guys told me to let my hair down, right?"

Helena sighed again, "Not like this."

"Like what?" She asked, tilting her head.

"I intended for us to just loosen up a bit and have an enjoyable evening," Helena studied her, "Are you having fun?" Myka shrugged.

"I missed you," she said honestly, swaying once more. H.G. reached out to steady her and Myka found that she couldn't stop staring at the other girl's eyes.

"Myka," Helena started warily, but didn't get any further as Pete chose that very moment to stumble toward them.

"My two favorite ladies," he said loudly, putting an arm around each of them. Myka leaned into the embrace happily- Pete felt wonderfully stable and simple.

"Do me a solid, girls," he continued, leading them slowly into another room, "and come play spin the bottle. People will be mad impressed if I show up with the two hottest chicks at the party."

"Pete," Myka giggled, but didn't respond to his invitation.

"Yeah, alright Pete," H.G. piped up from his other side, "let's join the game."

"Yes!" Pete squeezed them tighter and led them toward a group of kids sitting on the ground in a circle. Myka froze when she realized her sister was among them. Pete didn't notice that she had stopped walking, he simply filled in an open spot on the floor.

"Myka, are you alright?" Helena was suddenly at her side, "We don't have to play."

"Come on, guys!" Pete called over his shoulder, "These lips are raring to go!"

"I'm- It's fine," Myka shook her head, trying to smile. She would be normal tonight, she had decided it somewhere around her third beer. And she was sure normal meant playing spin the bottle and being social with her sister. She walked ahead of H.G., who frowned as she passed, and filled another gap in the circle.

"Woah, Myka," her sister raised an eyebrow at her, "you look different."

"You mean hot," Bradford interjected and most of the guys in the circle laughed. Myka willed herself not to blush as Tracy leaned across the circle to give Bradford a shove.

"Gross, Brad," she smiled, "that's my _sister_." Bradford just shrugged and grinned the grin of a privileged young man. Myka noticed H.G. slide wordlessly into the circle across from her.

"Okay, okay," Bradford said, "you all know the rules, I'm sure. If you land on the same person twice, you gotta use tongue." Myka saw Pete nodding emphatically to her right and rolled her eyes at him.

The game went began without incident, but Myka felt herself getting increasingly anxious as her turn was approaching. What had she been thinking, playing this game? Finally, a junior boy named Freddie passed her the bottle. She accepted it with a weak smile and took a deep breath.

The bottle seemed to spin for minutes, much longer than anyone else's turn, but it finally slowed to a stop, landing on… _Pete_. She groaned for show, but was actually very pleased with her luck. Pete was safe.

"Jeez, Mykes," Pete shuffled closer to her, "if I wasn't so good looking, you'd hurt my feelings." He leaned over and planted a quick peck on her lips before she even knew it was happening. She smiled at him and the game continued.

On the next turn, however, Greg's bottle stopped directly on Freddie. Myka's breath caught as she waited to see what would happen. Both boys made disgusted faces at one another.

"Nah, uh, uh," Pete said jovially, "Rules are rules, boys. Ya gotta kiss."

"Ew, Pete, that's fucking gross," Myka dropped her gaze as she heard her sister's voice.

"Yeah, man," Bradford chimed in, "I don't want any queers at my party." Myka downed the rest of her beer, feeling uncomfortable and suddenly very sad.

"Okay, dude, take it easy," Pete put his hands up submissively, "It's all good. I think maybe it's time for a drink refill, yeah?" Bradford studied him seriously for a moment more before his expression changed and he chugged his beer.

"Keg stands!" He shouted, hopping up and pulling Tracy to her feet. The rest of the group either followed or milled around in smaller factions, the game broken up for now.

Myka exhaled a sigh of relief before getting to her feet and stumbling toward the back door. She was in desperate need of some fresh air. She passed a few smokers loitering on the deck and walked out into the yard.

Once Myka got near the tree line, she unceremoniously dropped to the grass. She laid back and looked up at the clear sky. Laying in the cool grass made her feel a little better, but she still had no idea what was coming over her lately.

"You'll stain your dress," Helena sighed as she gracefully sat a few feet from Myka.

"It's fine- I'm never going to wear it again anyway," she closed her eyes.

"Myka," the girl began tentatively, "are you alright?"

"I don't know," she answered honestly, covering her face with her hands.

"Do you- do you want to talk about it?" She asked after a few moments.

"I'm not even sure what to say," she mumbled.

"Well, why don't you just start talking, come on then," Helena reclined next to her, close enough so Myka could feel the heat radiating off her arm and it made her shiver.

"I feel like everything's weird right now, I don't know how to describe it," Myka told her, "And we're going to leave for college really soon and I know we said it would be fine to be apart and that we would keep in touch and visit, but it just doesn't feel fine anymore. I don't know."

Myka groaned at her rambling and heard Helena shift beside her. She felt a soft hand pull each arm, one at a time, off her face and back down to her sides. She felt that same hand tug gently through her hair. She swallowed down a lump that suddenly appeared in her throat.

"Myka, will you look at me?" Her stomach flopped and she shivered again as the soft voice reached her ears.

Finally, Myka opened her eyes to find her friend much closer than she had been before, propped up on her side. The hand that had been gently playing with her hair was moving to her jaw, as Helena stared into her eyes. Myka was paralyzed, her heart beating erratically, but she couldn't look away.

"I just," Helena whispered, hand sliding around to the back of her neck, "Can I?" Myka didn't know what she was asking- didn't really know what was happening- but found that she couldn't stop staring at her friend's dark eyes.

Helena inched impossibly closer, her eyes darting to glance at Myka's lips, which Myka then moistened subconsciously. After another long moment, Helena closed her eyes and Myka did the same, still frozen in place. All of a sudden, Myka's breath caught as she felt a delicate, tentative mouth cover her own.

Myka revelled in the softness for a few seconds, feeling something vaguely important settle in her chest, before jerking away abruptly. She stared at Helena with wide eyes, inching away from the girl to sit up.

"What- what the hell?" Myka stammered, chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath.

"Myka, I-" Helena whispered, "I- what?" The girl was shaking her head, looking confused.

"H.G.," Myka wiped at a tear that had suddenly leaked from her eye, "what the fuck are you doing?"

"What?" Helena narrowed her eyes, still shaking her head.

"You-" Myka realized she was crying now, but didn't really know why, "That's gross. Why did you do that?"

"Myka, stop it," H.G. grit her teeth and Myka tried to ignore the way her voice broke.

"I'm not a freak," Myka spat, wishing she could stop talking or crying or both, "I'm not-" She choked on a sob.

"Myka," Helena repeated with disbelief, reaching out toward her.

"No!" She shouted, "Don't touch me. I'm not- I'm… You're disgusting." Helena's eyes widened with hurt before her jaw clenched angrily. Without another word, she turned away from Myka, got up and half-walked, half-ran back toward the house.

Myka sat there, stunned and crying, fighting against the urge to yell for Helena to wait, to come back. She shook her head, wishing she could think, but feeling all her thoughts blur uncomfortably. She wasn't sure if she wanted another beer or to travel through time back a few hours and never sip from Pete's flask in the first place.

The only thing Myka was sure of was that she felt sad. Unbelievably, inconsolably sad- and she wasn't sure why. She wiped angrily at her eyes once more, before pushing herself up to unsteady feet. She made her way across the yard was back inside the house before she realized she hadn't thought of a plan of action.

"Myka?" She heard her sister's voice over the crowd noise coming from across the room and instinctively turned in the opposite direction. She pushed through groups of people, hoping she didn't look like quite as much of a mess as she felt, before feeling a heavy hand on her shoulder.

"Mykes," she blinked and Pete came into focus, "are you okay?" She shook her head.

"I'm going home," she said, refusing to make eye contact with her friend.

"Okay, let me grab my jacket," he told her, "it's right there on the couch."

"No, you stay," she shook her head, "I'll be fine." Pete grabbed her hand and led her to the couch, quickly grabbing his jacket before steering them toward the front door.

"Pete, I'm serious," she protested as he closed the door behind them, "I don't want to spoil your night." She felt herself starting to cry again and sighed with frustration.

"Nah, it's a lame party anyway," he offered, draping his jacket over her shoulders, "Bradford's a douche." Something like a laugh escaped from her mouth as she tried hard not to cry.

"I saw H.G. bolt outta there just a few minutes ago," Pete continued, "We might be able to catch up with her. Was somebody a jerk to you guys?" Myka flinched and shook her head, wrapping her arms around herself.

They walked in silence for a few minutes before Pete spoke again.

"Seriously, Mykes," he said, "if one of those assholes said anything or, or did anything to _either_ of you-"

"No, Pete, it's not like that. I don't want to talk about it," Myka interrupted quickly, "and I don't want to see H.G. right now. We- I- I just don't want to see her right now." Pete's eyes widened with understanding and he nodded.

"Okay, Mykes," he said simply, putting a warm arm around her shoulders. They walked the rest of the way home in near silence, the only sounds the clacking of Myka's heels on the pavement and her occasional sniffles.

/

Helena was a ghost over the next few weeks. Myka only saw her in school every now and again, but her friend's absences weren't unusual for a Senior about to graduate. In fact, Myka was pretty sure she was the only member of her grade that hadn't cut class at all.

Pete attempted to subtly find out what had happened at the party a few times, but every time he did Myka would shut down. He gave up after about a week, but didn't stop giving her concerned looks when he thought she wasn't paying attention.

Even Myka's family noticed that something was up, each of them responding in their own way. Her mother started cooking Myka's favorite things for almost every meal. She took to making awkwardly forced offhand comments like, "You know you can tell me anything, right?" or "I remember how complicated everything was at your age."

Her sister was being strangely nice to her, going so far as to even acknowledge and talk to her at school. A few times at home, she looked like she wanted to say something important, but would always end up just smiling sadly before asking Myka to "pass the salt" or something equally as mundane.

Surprisingly, her father seemed to have the best idea of what was going on in Myka's head. She was helping out in the bookstore the evening before her last day of high school, when he awkwardly cleared his throat.

"Where's Helena been lately?" He asked, glancing up at her, "There are a few pieces in this shipment that I think she'd be particularly interested in." Myka blanched.

"You know, dad," she began in a measured voice, "there's so much going on lately, graduation and all, she's been really busy."

"Oh," he grunted, "I thought Tracy said that she heard Helena was going to miss your graduation. Something about going to visit family in England before heading off to college?"

"I, um," Myka's head swam, "You know, I can't remember. I actually have to go do some homework, okay? I'll see you at dinner." Myka's father raised an eyebrow, but nodded, saying nothing. He knew just as well as she did that she hadn't had homework assigned in over a week.

She saw Helena only once during the commotion of the last day of school. The other girl was cleaning out her locker at the other end of the hall. They locked eyes for just a moment before Myka looked away, but she felt physically struck by the sadness she had seen and she wasn't able to shake the image from her head for the rest of the day.

Later that evening, Myka lay on her bed, listening to sad music and staring up at her ceiling. Her cell phone was contained tightly in her sweaty grip as she contemplated her options. Before she decided on anything, however, she felt it buzz within her fingers. She flipped it open and her chest tightened when she saw it was a text from Helena.

_"Will you meet me at the park? I'd like to talk to you."_

Myka willed her pulse to slow down as she typed a quick response.

_"When?"_

Myka bit her lip as she waited to see what H.G. would say. She knew she would go, whatever time Helena said.

_"Whenever. I'm there already, but I'll wait as long as you need."_

Myka's stomach rolled, but she nodded resolutely, sitting up as she replied.

_"I'm on my way."_

Ten minutes later, Myka took a steadying breath as she walked up to the swingset where Helena sat. She hoped she looked more confident than she felt.

"Hey," she said, sitting on the other swing.

"Hello," H.G. replied, not looking up, "thanks for coming."

"No problem," Myka said, feeling awkward as she began to swing lightly.

"I want to be direct with you, Myka," H.G. told her, taking a deep breath.

"Okay," Myka nodded, feeling extremely shaky.

"I'm leaving," she began quietly, "Tomorrow, actually. And I needed to see if you had anything to say to me before I left."

"So, it's true," Myka breathed, "I heard a rumor that you were leaving, but I didn't know…" She trailed off and finally looked over at her friend. Helena was staring back at her, with an expression she couldn't name. Neither girl spoke for a long moment.

"My dad got a new shipment of books in," Myka looked away, "and he thought there were a few you would especially like. So, you should really come see before you leave-"

"Myka," H.G. interrupted, "do you have anything to say to me?" The girl looked so broken and Myka fought against the urge to reach out to her. She shook her head, trying to clear everything inside it.

"I don't-" Myka started and stopped, "I'm not ready for you to leave, I don't think."

"Why not?" She asked softly.

"Helena, please, just- I'm not," Myka struggled to find the right words.

"Why not, Myka?" Helena asked again, voice shaking, and twisted in her swing so she was facing her friend. She reached a tentative hand out and placed it gently on Myka's thigh.

Myka jumped up as though Helena's hand had been on fire. She backed away a couple of steps, heart ready to burst from her chest.

"Don't _do_ that," she begged through gritted teeth, "H.G., I…" Myka trailed off, realizing she had no idea what to say.

"Goodbye, Myka," Helena stood abruptly, discretely wiping a tear from her eye, "I'll ask you to kindly not contact me unless you've decided to be honest with yourself."

"Helena," Myka gaped at her, "You can't-"

"I would wish you luck at university," H.G. continued as though Myka hadn't spoken and picked up her bag from the ground, "but I doubt you will need it."

"Helena," Myka repeated, louder now. The other girl finally looked at her, eyes glassy with tears.

"I hope you'll be happy, Myka," she said sadly, "I truly wish nothing but the best for you. I'd give you a hug, but I'm not very interested in being called a _freak_ again." Helena's expression turned poisonous and Myka physically recoiled. Before she could respond, H.G. turned and walked away.

_Six years later_

"Hang on!" Myka called, rinsing the last bit of soap out of her bowl and depositing it in the rack before drying her hands quickly. She carried the towel with her to the front door, wondering who would possibly be coming by unannounced on a Sunday afternoon.

Assuming that it had to be Pete trying, once again, to get her to watch football with him, she didn't bother checking the peep hole. She flung open the door unceremoniously, one hand on her hip, ready to tell him (for the last time) that she just didn't really care about the Broncos.

The sight that greeted her on the other side of her threshold, however, made her stomach drop and her breath catch. Standing there, nervously shifting a backpack on her shoulder, was Helena G. Wells.

"Hello, Myka."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes:** Guys, I swear this was supposed to be short. I'm adding a part three. Oops. Also, I didn't read over this enough so there are probably definitely errors.

**Part two**

Myka Bering could say with absolute certainty that she wasn't the type of person to be struck speechless. She knew she was an intelligent woman; a woman who could think on her feet and respond to almost any situation. Yet, here she was- opening and closing her mouth like a fool, unable to find her voice.

The last time she could recall feeling like this she had been eighteen years old, left dumbfounded and alone next to a swingset. A younger version of the woman standing in front of her had caused the muteness then, and she had done it again now.

"May I come in?" Helena asked quietly. Myka eyed the luggage piled around H.G.'s feet warily, but opened the door wide and gestured into her home.

"Do you-" Myka cleared her throat as she pushed her glasses further up the bridge of her nose, "Would you like a hand?"

"I think I can manage, thank you," Helena shifted the backpack on her shoulder, picked up a duffel bag and was attempting to grab the handles of two wheelie bags when Myka stepped forward with a roll of her eyes.

"I'll get this one," she said, wheeling the suitcase into her living room. Helena followed, dropping the rest of her bags near the couch.

"May I sit?" She asked primly, pointing to the couch. Myka raised her eyebrows, feeling utterly confused.

"Sure, why not?" She laughed to herself, feeling the full brunt of the bizarreness of this situation, "Do you, do you want a drink or something?"

"Some water would be lovely," H.G. said, dropping heavily onto the couch. Myka noticed for the first time how tired the other woman looked. She nodded and made her way back to the kitchen, tossing the dish towel she still carried onto the kitchen table as she reached the cabinet.

Myka was in the process of grabbing a cup when she was hit with a mild wave of vertigo. She was able to hold herself together, bringing the water glass down to rest gently on the counter top before leaning heavily against it for support.

What the fuck was Helena doing at her doorstep? She had literally had zero contact with the woman since that night at the park so many years ago. Sure, Pete had kept her vaguely updated with casual mentions (she knew that H.G. was living in London, for instance), but neither woman made any attempt at communication over the years.

Myka took a deep breath, feeling the dizziness pass, and filled the water glass from the pitcher in her fridge. She nodded to herself resolutely before heading back to her living room. She would be civil, _polite_, and have Helena on her way within the hour.

She set the glass of water down on a coaster in front of Helena before taking a seat in the chair across from her. H.G. smiled her thanks and took a long drink of water. An awkward silence settled over the pair as Helena looked everywhere but at Myka, while Myka waited for some kind of explanation as to the woman's sudden appearance.

"Helena," she said finally, running a hand through her curls, "what are you doing here?" H.G. finally looked at her and smiled apologetically. She clasped her hands on her lap before speaking.

"I have to admit that I'm in a bit of a bind," she said, still smiling tightly, "I realize how very inappropriate this is, but I couldn't think of anyone else to turn to." All at once, Myka could very clearly see through H.G.'s prim and proper behavior and realized that the woman was clearly scared of something.

"What's going on?" Myka edged forward in her seat.

"Well, Myka," she inhaled deeply, studying something that was apparently very interesting on her lap, "I'm pregnant."

The air whooshed suddenly out of Myka's lungs. Of all the reasons Helena could've given for bursting back into her life, pregnancy had not even been on Myka's radar. How could the woman possibly be pregnant? Myka sat back in her chair, taking off her glasses and setting them down on the end table next to her.

"Myka?" Helena asked quietly, and Myka hummed distractedly in response, "Myka, I find myself once again, and against my better judgement, asking if you have anything to say to me. And it is just as nerve wracking this time around." The blatant reference to that night, to what happened between them six years ago, hung in the air and Myka looked sharply at her old friend.

"H.G.," she sighed, suddenly tired, "what do you want from me?"

"Well, I was hoping you could perhaps provide some guidance, some assistance," Helena tried and failed to keep the hope out of her voice. Myka frowned and shook her head.

"I'm just a grad student," Myka replied, "I don't really have very much money."

"Money?" Helena scoffed, "No, Myka, I'm not here to ask you for _money_." She said the word like it left a bad taste in her mouth.

"Well, then, what do you need?" Myka asked, rubbing her forehead.

"I need-" Helena paused and Myka was terrified she was going to follow up with the word _you_, "I need help. I need _someone_." Myka let out a sigh of relief, but it sounded wistful even to her own ears.

"Helena," she began, shaking her head once more.

"No, no, no. Don't _Helena_ me, not right now," the woman interrupted, sadness flooding her features even as her fists balled up at her sides, "I have spent the past six years being so bloody angry with you that I can hardly stand it. But right now, I am just frightened, Myka. I'm really, really frightened, and I don't want to be mad at you anymore. I need my best friend- I've missed you _so_ much. I hate it that I have, but it's true."

Somewhere in the middle of her rant, Helena had started to cry. Myka looked on with wide eyes, realizing she had never seen H.G. _really_ cry before- not like this.

"Sod it," H.G. sobbed angrily, standing up, "This was a ridiculous idea- I'll find a hotel. Sorry to have bothered you." H.G. was gathering up her bags with some difficulty when Myka finally recovered from the initial shock of the outburst. She hopped up nervously and laid a hesitant hand on Helena's shoulder. The other woman froze.

"H.G., just wait a second," Myka told her, removing her hand quickly, "come sit back down." After a slight pause, Helena barked out a growl of frustration.

"Pregnancy hormones," she huffed angrily, wiping away tears, "I've been a right mess for weeks." Myka smiled warmly at that and, without thought, pulled her old friend into a tight hug.

Myka wasn't quite prepared for the onslaught of emotion that came with feeling Helena's body pressed up against her own. She pulled away after just a moment, looking down sheepishly as a long forgotten warmth rushed to her cheeks. She felt like she was eighteen again, out of control and confused.

"I, uh, I missed you, too, H.G.," Myka mumbled, rubbing the back of her neck, "Now, come sit down and talk to me." She looked up to find Helena staring at her with a quizzical look on her face. It looked like she wanted to say something, but she just nodded and walked back toward the couch, wiping her eyes on the way.

"So, uh," Myka began, sitting back down in her chair, "how did this happen, exactly?" Despite her red-rimmed eyes and running nose, Helena had the audacity to smirk suggestively.

"Come now, Myka," she quirked up an eyebrow, "surely you know _that_."

"Well, yeah, of course," Myka blushed, "I just- I mean, I thought you… I didn't think that you…" She trailed off awkwardly, shaking her head.

"You assumed I was _gay_?" H.G. emphasized the word, staring at the other woman as though to gauge her reaction. Myka flinched, blanching.

"Right," Myka bit her lip, "aren't you?"

"No," she said simply and Myka's chest tightened uncomfortably.

"Oh," she offered, confused, "well, okay. Sorry." Myka felt lost- had she completely misinterpreted what happened between them six years ago?

"Myka," the woman sighed sadly, "this happened because I had sex with a man, the condom broke and I found myself pregnant. My ever so _loving_ family all but ordered me to have an abortion immediately, which I refused. Admittedly, I was being contrary at first, but now I find myself genuinely wanting to keep this child. And to add insult to injury, the father wants nothing to do with me- with _us_, I suppose." She glanced down toward her stomach.

Myka put her own feelings, her confusion, aside as her heart broke for the woman in front of her. Whatever had happened between them in the past, she couldn't forget what an incredible friend Helena had been at a time in her life when she really needed one.

"That makes him a total idiot," Myka offered with a soft smile which H.G. returned sadly, "So, uh, how, um, far along are you? I mean, could you even still have an abortion? Is that something you want?" Myka was resolved to be as supportive as possible.

"Oh, I'm only about ten weeks- so, yes, I could. The thing is, I don't actually think I want that anymore," H.G. sighed, running a hand through her hair, "I never really gave much thought to children before. Do you- Do you think I'd be an okay mother?" Myka smiled broadly as she was assaulted by the image of Helena, bathed in moonlight, humming softly as she rocked an infant to sleep.

"Yeah, I think you'd be great," she said honestly and Helena returned the smile before she frowned anxiously.

"Be that as it may, I'm not sure I want to do it on my own. And, after my family's awful behavior, I was thinking of who I could possibly turn to. And, well, I kept coming back to... to you. And also Pete, oddly enough," Helena smiled apologetically before continuing, "So, I hopped on a plane and here I am. Pete's been keeping me up to date with your addresses and the like over the years- just in case, I suppose."

"Oh," was all Myka could manage in response. She knew that Pete had been in contact with H.G., but had no idea to what extent. She also still wasn't exactly sure what Helena was asking of her.

"I realize that this may all sound a bit mad," H.G. smiled self-deprecatingly, "And I don't want you to think that my decision hinges upon yours- I'm fairly certain I will be keeping the baby regardless of your, and Pete's, involvement."

"Okay," Myka nodded, feeling overwhelmed.

"Anyway, you don't have to decide right now. Think it over, take your time. We have about six months before anything really happens," Helena rested a hand over her midsection with a grin.

"H.G.," Myka started tentatively, "I still don't know if I understand _why _you came here? Don't you hate me?"

"I _never_ hated you, Myka," she shook her head sadly, "And, like I said, I don't want to be angry anymore. You're still the very best friend I've ever had, and, when I imagined raising a child, I thought his or her world would be better with you in it." Myka wasn't sure what to say to that, so she just nodded, looking down shyly.

"Well, I think I will go get that hotel room now," Helena stood up.

"You could stay here," Myka heard herself make the offer as though she had no control over her mouth, "if you wanted. I mean, hotels are expensive." She shrugged, trying to appear casual.

"Oh, I don't want to impose," she tilted her head thoughtfully, "as crazy as _that_ may sound." Myka smiled, loosening up.

"It's fine," she stood up as well, "I have a pull out couch in the study. It's not the Ritz, but it's actually pretty comfortable."

"If you're positive," H.G. paused and Myka nodded, "well then, alright. Thank you, Myka."

Myka smiled before grabbing all but one of the other woman's bags and leading her further into her home.

/

"I think it's awesome, Mykes," Pete said through a mouthful of chowder, "I'll get to be cool Uncle Pete. Teach the kid all the fun stuff." Myka looked at her friend with disbelief before handing him a napkin.

It had only been a few hours since H.G had arrived on her doorstep. Myka had stepped out to debrief the situation with Pete while Helena took a nap, exhausted from travel.

"Pete, there's a lot more to it than that," Myka told him, "It's a big commitment, to be part of a child's life. Plus, H.G. said she didn't need help financially, but I'm not sure she understands how much this is going to cost."

"Oh, that's not a problem- she's pretty loaded," Pete replied quickly, wiping his mouth. Myka looked at him sharply.

"Uh, I mean," he continued, looking uncomfortable, "I wouldn't worry about that." Myka continued to glare at him.

"Okay! Will you stop looking at me like that?" He finally put his spoon down, "H.G. has been successful. Like, _really_ successful. So, whatever reservations you have about this baby- money should not be one of them."

"Successful doing what, Pete?" She pressed, leaning closer to him from across the booth, "And how do you know? How close have you guys been?" Pete shrugged uncomfortably.

"We've kept up," he said vaguely, dipping a chunk of bread into his soup, "She's kind of a kick ass writer, Mykes."

"What? Really?" Myka looked away, getting lost in thought, "I mean I'm not _surprised_, you know? That makes sense. _Of course _she would be great at whatever she put her mind to. And she did always have a way with words, couldn't miss that."

"Uh, hello? I'm still here," he waved his hand in front of her face.

"Sorry," she looked sheepish, "So, what kind of writing?"

"Her first novel has sort of blown up lately. It's called _The Masks We Wear_," Pete revealed the information quietly.

"What?" Myka hadn't meant to yell, but her voice had apparently gotten loud enough that several other diners glanced their way, "Pete, that's huge! How could you keep that from me?"

"Shh, Myka, you're kind of making a scene," Pete hushed her as he gestured to their surroundings.

"Sorry," she hissed, looking around, "but, that novel has gotten amazing critical reviews- it's on the New York Times bestseller list!"

"Yup," Pete agreed.

"But H.G. didn't write that, Pete. The author is," she paused to think, before a look of understanding crossed her face, "Helen Wellmon."

"Bingo," Pete nodded. Myka looked at him, unable to mask the hurt she was feeling.

"Why didn't you tell me?" She asked quietly, "Why didn't _she_ tell me?"

"Are you kidding me?" Pete looked at her incredulously, "Myka, I couldn't even mention her name for like two years without you freaking out- you _still_ get all weird when I talk about her. Why would I randomly tell you about her career?"

"Okay, Pete, we're not talking about some minor promotion or whatever- she wrote one of the best books of the year. Or maybe _better_ than that, I don't even know- I haven't read it yet."

"What happened between you two?" Pete finally asked after a long moment of studying the contents of his bowl.

Myka scoffed, feeling panic rise up within her, "I'm surprised she didn't tell you, considering what _close friends_ you apparently are."

"Don't be like that," he sighed, "She only ever said that she did something stupid and you would never be able to forgive her. And that she couldn't be around you anymore."

Myka said nothing, just picked at an ancient carving in their diner booth. _Something stupid. _The words felt too harsh and too insignificant to describe the night of their prom.

"Listen," he reached across the table, stilling her busy hands, "I know you probably think I'm crazy, but, Myka, I think this a good thing. Like all of it- having H.G. back in our lives, helping to take care of a baby, _everything_."

"A baby is…" Myka squeezed his hand, "it's forever, Pete. And saying yes to Helena right now, it means the three of us are in each other's lives no matter what."

"I know that," Pete nodded, "it just doesn't really bother me. Honestly, I love both of you and I had planned to be part of your lives anyway. I'm not sure what happened between you guys, but I, for one, have missed her. And I've missed you, too."

"Pete," she tilted her head quizzically, "you moved here over two years ago." After graduating from SDSU on a full athletic scholarship, Pete had wasted no time joining Myka in Boston. He claimed he wanted a taste of "big city livin'," but Myka always wondered if he moved because he worried about her.

"Yeah, I know, just-" he scratched at the back of his absently, "nevermind. You wanna share a sandwich?" Myka narrowed her eyes at him, but decided not to press the issue.

"Does _sharing_ mean that I get half a sandwich or two bites of a sandwich?" She asked him sarcastically.

"Yeah, you're right, we better get two," he nodded, looking past her for their waitress.

/

"So, are you all, like," Tracy paused, "_living _together?" Myka sighed. She hadn't expected her sister to understand.

"H.G. is staying with me, for now," Myka tried not to lose her patience, as she shifted the phone to her other ear.

"Well, that's cool," her sister decided. Myka waited for the inevitable snarky or judgement-filled comment to follow, but none came.

"Is she just so excited?" Her sister continued, "Baby clothes are so freaking adorable- I cannot wait to go shopping. I should plan a trip to see you guys soon!" Myka was fairly certain that her jaw actually dropped.

"Excuse me?" Myka asked, "I _am_ still talking to my sister, right? You seriously don't have anything else to say but, 'Is she excited?' This is _scandalous_ by your standards- a young, unmarried woman I haven't spoken to in years gets knocked up and shows up on my doorstep and you're totally cool with it?"

Tracy sighed dramatically, "Myka, I'm not a little kid anymore. I am practically 21 years old and I've seen some stuff in my life. I'm not proud of how I used to be, I know I wasn't always a nice person, but it's not who I am anymore." Myka bit her lip, ashamed of her little outburst.

"I know you're not a kid, Trace," she said sincerely, "I'm sorry, I guess I just forget sometimes- makes me feel old to hear you sound so grown up."

"Look at us- having an adult conversation," Myka smiled at the thought, "Mom and Dad would be stunned." Myka felt a wave of anxiety bubble up at the mention of their parents.

"How are they, anyway?" Myka asked dutifully.

"Oh, they're fine," Tracy told her breezily, "you know, same as ever. But they're going to be so excited to hear about H.G.- especially Dad. I could never figure out who missed her more over the years- you or him." Myka's sat down as she received her second familial shock within five minutes.

"Tracy," Myka began seriously, unsure of what exactly to say.

"I know, I know," she cut in, "we don't talk about whatever happened between you two. God, Myka, you're so repressed."

"_Repressed_? Hey, I-" Myka sputtered over her words.

"Sorry, maybe not repressed. Closed off? All I know is that I don't think you have ever _once_ talked to me about yourself or your feelings or _anything_," Tracy sighed, "You totally get it from Dad." Myka frowned, thrown by the turn the conversation had taken.

"Um, anything else about me you wanna shit on, Trace?" Myka mumbled.

"Sorry," Tracy responded in that way that only little sisters can, both apologetic and untroubled all at once, "Anyway, I'll tell Mom and Dad, if you want. I'm sure you've been all anxious about it." Myka had been, in fact, but she wasn't about to admit that to her sister.

"Oh," she replied, aiming for nonchalance, "I mean, sure. If you were planning to talk to them anyway- no big deal."

"Right," she could practically hear the amused smile in Tracy's voice. She was about to insist that it _wasn't_ a big deal- when she heard a set of keys drop right outside the door, followed by a soft "bollocks."

"Hang on, Trace," Myka smiled, setting her cell phone down on the table. She jogged over to the door and flung it open to reveal a flustered Helena, who was bending down to retrieve her keys. The smile immediately slipped off of Myka's face as she felt a familiar sharp twist low in her belly.

Helena's position, coupled with the low-cut shirt she had chosen for the unseasonably warm New England autumn day, gave Myka an unobstructed view of the woman's increasingly ample cleavage. She suddenly felt very warm and, despite her best efforts, was unable to tear her eyes from the form in front of her.

"Myka," H.G. smiled broadly as she stood up, keys in hand, "hello." Myka knew that she must've looked strange, because Helena's expression changed almost immediately.

"Are you-" she breathed, peering at the other woman, "Are you alright, Myka?"

"Sorry," Myka shook her head, hoping her blush wasn't as obvious as it felt, "I'm fine. Do you want some help?" She gestured to the shopping bags Helena had abandoned on the floor.

"That would be lovely, actually," she chuckled softly, "I may have gone a bit overboard." Myka grinned crookedly back at her.

"Just a bit," she teased, taking the bags that Helena offered, "I'm on the phone with my sister, well she's on hold, but she says 'hi.'" Myka spoke over her shoulder as she carried the bags into what had become H.G.'s room.

"Oh, splendid, and how is our young Tracy?" Helena asked brightly, following her friend.

"Not so young anymore, as she has informed me," Myka dropped the bags on H.G.'s makeshift bed, turning to watch the woman enter the room. She knew she was staring and wanted to stop, but she just couldn't seem to help it.

"Ah, yes, that does tend to happen," Helena grinned before flopping onto some free space on the bed, "Please give her my love, but, then, hurry back, yes? I have some news I've just been bursting to share."

Myka swallowed thickly as she tried to avert her eyes from the prone form in front of her. She nodded, biting her lip before responding.

"Be right back," her voice sounded breathless even to her own ears. She clenched her jaw angrily as she walked back toward her living room.

This had to stop- Myka wasn't seventeen and naive anymore. She _knew_ that when she stared at Helena, when she thought of the woman, what she was feeling was arousal- not jealousy or mere fondness or whatever else she used to tell herself. She _knew_ that she was attracted to women, but it was something she made a conscious effort to ignore.

Since Helena had stepped back into her life a few weeks ago, however, she was finding it harder than ever to suppress her feelings. Sure, she had been attracted to other women over the years, but it was never quite the same. Myka sighed heavily before picking up her cell phone from the table.

"Sorry, Trace," she said, "I was helping H.G. carry some bags in."

"No problem," her sister responded good-naturedly, "but I have to run, actually. Let's talk this week- I want to plan a trip."

"Sounds good," Myka inhaled deeply, "Tracy, I- thanks."

"You don't have to thank me, Myka," she laughed, "I love you, you know that? And me and Mom and Dad aren't as old-fashioned as you seem to think we are."

"'I'll try to keep that in mind, wise one," Myka smiled, walking back toward Helena's room, "Talk to you soon."

"'Bye, sis," Tracy chuckled as she ended the call. Myka paused outside her study, trying to slow her racing heart. After a minute, she stepped into the room, smiling when she saw Helena hold up a tiny onesie.

"It's absurd," the woman began, eyes twinkling, "how adorable baby clothes are, don't you agree? Take this- it's just a tiny, white article of clothing, nothing remarkable, and yet I can't help but feel that it's quite possibly the most darling thing I've ever purchased."

"Just wait until we can start buying the little shoes," Myka hopped onto the bed, "those are what really get me." Helena's smile was contagious and Myka finally had to look away.

"So, what's the news?" Myka continued, picking at the comforter.

"Ah, yes," her friend continued to remove baby clothes from their hangers, depositing the garments in a laundry basket, "Myka, I think I found a house to buy." Myka fought the urge to frown when she saw the excitement on H.G.'s face.

"Wow," she ran her hand through her hair and rubbed at the back of her neck, "that's huge. I, uh, I didn't even know you were looking." As soon as the words left her mouth, Myka wished she could've replaced them with a more excited congratulations.

"Oh, well, I," Helena paused, turning away to move the laundry basket closer to the door, "I didn't want to overstay my welcome-"

"Helena," Myka interrupted, "I told you that you really are welcome here."

"I know," H.G. replied quickly, "but I also have to think of the future. When the baby comes, it would be nice to have some more space."

"Oh," Myka realized she somehow hadn't really thought of that, "right. That makes sense." She laid back onto the bed, trying to collect her thoughts. It was probably for the best to put some distance between herself and the other woman.

"The thing of it is," she heard H.G. fussing with the shopping bags, "it _is_ a rather large house- four bedrooms, actually. And I had a crazy thought that perhaps you and Pete might like to move in there with me. Rent free, of course- I don't think I'll ever be able to repay you for the support you've both shown me since I've come back." Myka propped herself up onto her elbows, eyes wide.

"Helena," Myka shook her head, "I can't let you do that."

"Nonsense, why not?" H.G. was still fiddling with the handle of a shopping bag, unwilling to look at Myka.

"Well, for one, you _don't _owe me- or Pete," Myka replied adamantly, "We're friends, it's not- I don't want you to feel like you're _indebted_ to me or anything like that."

"Then, perhaps you'll consider my offer without feeling indebted to me?" Helena grinned slyly.

"Stop being clever," Myka scowled back at her playfully.

"I can't, darling, it's a curse," Helena laughed brightly, "Now, promise me you'll think about it?"

"I'll think about it," Myka agreed, knowing it was easier to relent at this point.

"I know you're only saying that to appease me, but I'll take what I can get," Helena finally sat on the bed near her, but not too close. Myka noticed that since the other woman had returned she was very careful not to initiate much contact or position herself too closely.

"H.G.?" She asked, feeling nervous as she looked up at the other woman.

"Myka?" Helena echoed, her tone teasing.

"I just wanted to say," the grin slipped from H.G.'s face at Myka's pregnant pause, "I just wanted to say congratulations. On the book, I mean. Pete told me a while ago, I just didn't know how to- how to say that, really, but I guess it's pretty easy, huh?" Helena smiled, but Myka could tell it wasn't genuine.

"Thank you, Myka," she nodded, "Have you read it, then?" Myka shook her head, embarrassed.

"No, not yet," Myka hoped the woman wouldn't question her further; she knew she had no good reason for avoiding the novel.

"Well, I'd love to hear what you think," she shyly caught Myka's eye, "whenever you get round to it."

"Of course," Myka agreed, inwardly wondering when she'd ever feel ready to read Helena's words.

"Hey," Myka continued, wanting to change the subject, "are you sure this pull out bed is okay for you? Is it comfortable enough?" She poked a lump in the thin mattress.

"I'm pregnant, Myka, but I'm not some delicate flower," the woman rolled her eyes.

"We could trade off, or something, if you want," Myka ignored her friend's attitude, "Just let me know, okay?"

"If all goes well, I'll be closing on my new house very soon," Helena grinned, "and I intend to buy a lovely king-sized bed."

Myka flushed, unable to stop herself from picturing the woman sprawled out on said king-sized bed. In her mind, Helena was naked, barely covered by a sheet she had wrapped herself in. She was glowing and breathless, spent from-

"Myka?" Helena had leaned a little closer, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Myka blurted, hopping off the bed quickly, "I was just thinking of how much work I have to do. So, I'm going to go do it. See you later." She didn't wait for a response before briskly walking from the study.

/

"Come in," Myka called after hearing the soft rapping at her door. It opened slowly to reveal Helena, dressed in a thin t-shirt and flannel sleep pants. Myka averted her eyes when she noticed the woman wasn't wearing a bra.

"I'm not bothering you, am I?" At Myka's reassuring shake of her head, Helena continued, "I know it's late, but I saw your light on."

"Is everything alright?" Myka shifted, sitting further up in her bed and removing her glasses.

"I'm fine," Helena smiled warmly, sitting at the edge of her bed, "I'm actually a bit embarrassed, though." Myka said nothing, just placed her book and glasses on her end table, looking at H.G. quizzically.

"Well, I insisted I was fine in that bed," Helena looked sheepish, "but I have to say my back is protesting wickedly tonight."

"Oh," Myka's eyes widened, "of course- we can switch." She started to pull the blankets off herself, when Helena's hand stilled her. Myka looked up at her sharply.

"You could stay," Helena offered, barely above a whisper, "It's late and- and cold out here."

"Oh," Myka repeated dumbly, realizing Helena's hand was still holding her own, "okay." She could hear her pulse beating madly and hoped H.G. didn't notice.

"You're sure?" Helena checked, giving her hand a squeeze.

"I'm sure," Myka nodded, licking her lips. Helena's eyes darkened at the action and she leaned in closer.

"I just," Helena whispered and all of a sudden there was a hand behind Myka's neck, "Can I?" And Myka was eighteen again, she was sure of it. The moment stretched into infiniteness before Helena finally covered Myka's mouth with her own.

There was a split second of panic and Myka was afraid she was about to bolt out of the room against her own will. It passed quickly and Myka moaned, revelling in the most intense feelings she had ever known. She tugged Helena toward her roughly, only pulling away when H.G. needed to shift her weight in order to straddle her.

"Fuck," Myka panted, "I've been wanting to do this for as long as I can remember."

"Let's unpack that sentence later, darling," Helena grinned before nipping at her neck, "I've got better plans for that mouth of yours."

Myka couldn't seem to take in enough oxygen as H.G.'s mouth and hands were all over her. She rolled her hips, already feeling excruciatingly turned on. Helena had somehow managed to join her under the blankets and was working her hands underneath Myka's tank top.

A warm, soft hand cupped her breast and Myka bit back a scream. Everything was happening so fast. She wanted to touch Helena, to explore her body, but the veracity of the other woman was rendering Myka incapable of almost everything. She wasn't incapable of feeling, however, and she gasped loudly as Helena's hot mouth covered her stiff nipple.

Helena's hand trailed down her side and made its way between her legs and Myka was sure she was actually in heaven. Slender fingers slipped over her clit and she knew she was barely holding on, a futile attempt at hanging on to some semblance of pride.

"Oh, God, Myka," Helena panted in her ear, "You feel amazing. I've never wanted anyone like I want you."

Myka's eyes snapped open, blind in the pitch darkness of her room. Her body was teetering on the edge of orgasm and, without thought, she dragged her hand from under her pillow down between her legs.

Myka was incredibly wet and she stifled a groan as she began to rub her clit without preamble. She came only a few moments later, tumbling over the edge as she gasped for breath. The pleasure was fleeting, however, and a feeling of emptiness overtook her even as she could still feel the afterwaves of her orgasm.

Myka rolled over, alone in her bed, trying, and failing, to both fall back to sleep and fight the tears that were bubbling up from her chest.


	3. Chapter 3

**Part three**

"Where's Christina?" Myka scratched her head, looking around with exaggerated movements, "Hel, have you seen Christina?" Helena poked her head around the corner.

"You've lost my daughter? Marvelous," she replied dryly, wiping her hands on a dish towel. Tiny fingers tugged down a blanket, revealing a smiling toddler.

"There she is!" Myka sang, reaching out to toss the little girl into the air. Christina rewarded her with a giggling grin that revealed all of her five teeth.

"Thank goodness," Helena feigned relief as she walked over, "I was about to alert the authorities." Myka threw the girl in the air twice more before putting her down to crawl on the floor.

"Myka, if you insist on riling her up before bedtime, you can be the one to put her down," Helena settled onto the floor next to the other woman.

"Oh no, my _least_ favorite thing," Myka stuck her tongue out goofily.

Christina babbled to herself happily, pulling all of her toys out of their basket. She crawled back to Myka, handing her a small plastic strawberry.

"Thank you, baby," she smiled, accepting the toy, "You want it back?" Myka offered it back to the little girl.

"Yah," she yelped excitedly, grabbing for the strawberry.

"Come here," Myka pulled the girl onto her lap, hugging her tightly, "Mummy is going to get mad at us if you don't go to bed like a good girl tonight."

"Mu, ma, ma, mu," she prattled, cuddling into the woman and smashing two of her toys together. Myka kissed the top of her head gently.

"Do you want a story tonight, sweetie?" She asked, peppering Christina's soft, dark hair with more kisses.

"Her hair is getting so long," Myka added, glancing up to find Helena smiling fondly at them.

"Mmhmm, I suppose it is," the woman nodded, before sliding closer and reaching for her daughter, "Come here, little one." She cradled the girl close to her chest.

"Are you ready for dreamland, sweet girl?" She whispered into Christina's hair. Something inside Myka chest bloomed as she watched the other woman with her daughter.

H.G. had turned out to be a fantastic mother- not that she had ever doubted that she would be. While Myka had felt awkward and unsure of herself around the baby at first, Helena had been a natural from the start.

"Gimme back," she reached out her arms, opening and shutting her hands, "we've got a date with Dr. Seuss." Christina squirmed out of H.G.'s grasp and settled back onto Myka's lap.

"Oh, sure," Helena scoffed, "abandon me. I only spent 18 hours in labor giving birth to you." The little girl rubbed her eyes sleepily in response.

"Oh, stop," Myka laughed, standing up with the girl still in her arms, "you know she loves you- she just loves books a lot, too. She probably heard me mention Seuss."

"Well, I suppose I can't fault her for that," H.G. stood as well and leaned over to kiss her daughter. Myka held her breath as the woman entered her space.

"Goodnight, my Christina," Helena said simply, kissing the girl one last time, "I love you." Myka tried, and failed, to will her chest from tightening. Instead, she merely smiled and carried the yawning child into her nursery.

Mid-way through story time, Myka felt her phone buzz within her pocket. She ignored it, deciding instantly that it was probably just Pete. After concluding _Green Eggs and Ham_, Myka stood and turned off the light. She rocked the little girl for a few minutes, humming a Gillian Welch song softly.

"Sleep tight, baby girl," she whispered, placing Christina gently into her crib. Myka spent a few long moments looking down at the girl, marveling at just how perfect she was. She could hardly believe that the baby was over a year old- it seemed like Helena had been pregnant just a couple of weeks ago.

_H.G. is a mother,_ Myka shook her head with a chuckle. There were times when Myka couldn't believe that this Helena was the same headstrong, independent girl that had befriended her so many years ago. She smiled fondly, suddenly assaulted with a memory of the start of their friendship.

Myka had been reading when they met, of course. She was sprawled across the porch of her parents' house, eyes straining to capture the fading contrast between text and page as the last of the late July day's golden light spilled over the horizon. She had long since finished her Eighth Grade recommended summer reading list, and that afternoon she found herself sailing on the _Pequod_, chasing a white whale.

"Hello," Myka's attention was pulled sharply away from her book by an unfamiliar voice. She brought a hand up to shield her view of the setting sun. It took a moment, but her eyes adjusted to the light and drank in the sight of Helena Wells for the first time.

Myka regarded her cautiously. The stranger was easily the prettiest girl she had ever seen and, in Myka's experience, that could be a very dangerous thing.

"Hi," she said, a hint of a question in her tone.

"I'm H.G.," the other girl said, sitting on the porch steps a few feet from Myka and sticking out her hand, "I'm new in town." Myka laid her book down, making sure not to lose her page, and shook the offered hand.

"I'm Myka," she replied, still unsure of what the girl wanted from her.

"I've just moved in," H.G. said breezily and Myka finally realized the other girl had an accent, "right down the street, actually. I came out for a little stroll to explore my new neighborhood."

"Oh, um," Myka looked closely at the girl, trying to decide if she was sincere, "welcome, I guess? It's pretty dull around here, though."

"I suspected as much," Helena nodded sagely, "but at least I've had the good fortune to stumble upon a literate peer."

"Who?" Myka asked reflexively. She couldn't be talking about Pete, could she? Had her best friend already convinced the beautiful new girl that comic books totally counted as literature? Her thoughts were interrupted as H.G. laughed brightly.

"Well, _you_, Myka," the girl grinned. Myka felt a blush rising in her cheeks, but something about the way the mysterious stranger laughed and said her name made her feel safe instead of threatened.

"Right," she looked down sheepishly, bracing herself in case the girl followed up the comment by calling her a nerd.

"What grade are you going into?" H.G. asked and Myka simply looked up at her inquisitively.

"_Moby Dick_," the girl nodded to Myka's book, "Are you in high school?"

"Oh," her eyes widened in realization, "Um, no. I'm going to be in Eighth Grade, actually, I'm just reading this for fun, I guess." Myka trailed off, picking away at the porch's peeling paint her dad had been meaning to take care of all summer.

"Splendid," the girl's eyes were alight, "That's my year, as well."

Myka chuckled, her consciousness returning briefly to the present. The thirteen-year-old version of herself had been _so_ suspicious of Helena at first. She assumed the girl would make other friends, would stop coming by her house everyday, but she never did.

The night before the first day of school had been difficult. Myka didn't sleep much, instead she stayed up trying to convince herself that H.G.'s friendship was unimportant. Sure, the girl was intriguing and probably the only person in Univille who got both her jokes and her nerdy references, but Myka knew that would probably all change tomorrow.

Helena was beautiful and British and carried herself with a grace Myka hadn't even known could exist. There was no doubt in her mind that her friend would become instantly popular. A tiny space in her heart held onto the belief that H.G. was a good and loyal person- that popularity didn't necessarily have to mean the end of their friendship- but she didn't dare acknowledge it.

The next day, Myka purposefully stayed away from her friend, instead choosing to focus on her new courses. She lurked outside the door of the classes they shared, only entering once the lesson was about to begin. Myka tried not to notice the empty seat next to H.G. each time, unsure if the girl had been saving it for her.

Helena finally caught up with her before the final period of the day. She was switching out some books at her locker, wondering idly if Pete had football practice right after school or if they could walk home together..

"You've been avoiding me," Myka shut her locker gently, revealing a pouting H.G.

"Hmm?" Myka asked. She knew that Helena would know she was feigning ignorance, but she wasn't quite sure how to tell the truth. The girl scowled at her.

"_Honestly,_" she brushed some hair behind her shoulder, "you're a bloody awful liar." Myka thought she may have seen the ghost of a smile at that.

"You should be able to make new friends here," Myka shrugged, hugging a textbook to her chest, "without, you know, having to babysit me or anything."

"What?" Myka looked up to see a look of utter disbelief on her friend's face and she sighed.

"H.G., it's okay. I mean, look at me," Myka awkwardly gestured to herself, "And look at you. There's an order to things, you know? It's okay. Maybe, if you want, we can still hang out at home, though. If you have time." Helena stared at her, dumbfounded.

"Myka," she said finally, shaking her head, "that is _not_ okay." Without another word, she stepped toward Myka and linked their arms together.

"Come on," she led Myka down the hall, "we have U.S. History. I'm tired of sitting alone and I know remarkably little about your country's past, so I will have to insist that you _finally_ take the seat next to me."

Myka smiled warmly at the thought and left the nursery with a final glance down at Christina's sleeping form. Yes, that girl from her memory had certainly grown up.

Pregnant Helena had been… well, she had been wonderful- breathtaking, really, if Myka was choosing to be honest with herself tonight. The woman was glowing and crabby and perfect and stubborn, sometimes all at once. Myka tried not to blush as she thought of the number of times she had been caught staring at her friend over the past almost two years.

Myka sighed, walking down the dim hallway and wishing, not for the first time, that she could be a different type of person- a _braver_ person, perhaps. The arrival of Christina had only enabled Myka to continue hiding from her feelings with less questions asked. It was easy to brush off potential dates or nosy family members when she was partially responsible for a tiny life.

At first, Helena had been insistent that Myka not give up her social life to stay home and take care of a child. However, Myka had countered that she didn't really have much of social life to begin with. And so the two of them, along with Pete, had fallen into an easy, domestic routine.

Pete was around the house less and less lately, however, as his relationship with Amanda was getting more and more serious. Myka liked the woman very much and didn't begrudge them their privacy one bit. Also, she had to admit, there were lots of times when she was happy to share her space with Helena alone.

Myka strode into the family room, smiling broadly at the scene that greeted her. Helena was typing away at her laptop, curled up on the couch. Two glasses of wine sat on the coffee table in front of her and H.G.'s face was screwed up in concentration.

"How's it going?" Myka asked, settling on the couch next to her friend as she picked up the wine glass.

"Alright," H.G. replied, not looking at Myka, "It appears you got Christina down without incident?" Myka laughed, sipping her wine.

"Oh, please," she said brightly, "you know she's almost always good at bedtime."

"I do," Helena spared her a quick glance, "but I was _so_ hoping she would be a terror for you tonight- someone needs to teach you a lesson." She quirked up an eyebrow, looking at Myka in a way that made her stomach flop. Myka took another sip of her wine to buy herself some time.

"Have you heard from Pete today?" H.G. asked and Myka was glad to not have to respond to the thought of being taught a lesson by the woman next to her.

"Oh, uh, no?" She pulled the cell phone from her pocket, "Well, maybe- I think I got a text during storytime." Helena said nothing, and Myka heard her fingers dancing along the keyboard as she unlocked her phone. She frowned when she realized that her text hadn't come from Pete.

"What's wrong?" Myka glanced up to find Helena looking at her expectantly.

"Oh, nothing," she sighed, "just… it was from Sam." Myka said simply and couldn't help but notice H.G.'s face fall just a bit. She recovered quickly, however, and looked back to her laptop screen.

"And how is your gentleman caller?" Helena's tone was too casual. Myka bit her lip as she read the text message: _Have time for lunch tomorrow? _She groaned, darkening her screen.

"He wants to get lunch tomorrow," Myka said, slumping back into the couch.

"Well, it has been a while," Helena replied wryly, tapping at her laptop, "but I've been given to understand that lunch is an acceptable social setting for a date." Myka ran a hand through her hair, shaking her head.

"I've heard that, too," she sighed again, "What are you working on?"

"A new novel," H.G. answered after a long moment, "And the abrupt conversation change is noted, by the way."

"New novel?" Myka sat up excitedly, "You didn't tell me!"

"Yes, well, you still haven't read my _first_ novel, have you?" There was just a hint of bitterness in Helena's tone and Myka winced guiltily.

"Hel-" Myka started.

"Sorry," H.G. said and Myka was glad for the interruption, "that came out a lot harsher than I meant it to. You don't have to read it if you don't want to- if you're not ready." Myka frowned at the woman's phrasing.

"It's not," she started and stopped, "I don't know, it just seems _invasive._"

"Myka, I did _publish_ the damn thing," Helena reached for her wine, "There is a bit of an expectation that people will actually read it." Myka looked away sheepishly, feeling a blush rise from her chest.

"Anyway," H.G. continued after an awkward moment, "I was asking about Pete earlier because I was hoping that one or both of you could watch Christina on Friday night." Myka glanced back toward her friend, noting that the woman wouldn't make eye contact.

"Oh, yeah," Myka nodded, "I haven't spoken with him, but I'm sure it won't be a problem. What are you up to? Work stuff?" Myka gestured at her laptop as Helena took a healthy pull of wine.

"Actually," she began carefully, "I have a social commitment of my own- a _date, _I suppose."

"A date?" Myka repeated, her pulse quickening.

"Yes," H.G. studied something on her screen, "Dinner, a film- your standard date activities." Myka blanched as she thought of a few other things that could be described as _standard date activities._

"I, uh, that's fun," Myka fumbled to respond, "I didn't realize you were dating. I mean, you never said anything before."

"Yes, the invitation took me rather by surprise," Helena finally looked over at her friend, "but I was asked and I couldn't find a good reason not to go." Their eyes locked for a long beat, before Myka looked away, swallowing thickly.

"Well, that's-" she picked at a piece of fuzz on her jeans, "That's great. I'm sure you'll have fun."

"Thank you, Myka," came the quiet response, "I hope I do."

"Do you want to watch a movie or something?" Myka asked without looking up. She blinked a few times to combat the sudden sting of tears behind her eyes.

"Actually, I think I'll turn in early tonight and keep writing," Myka heard the woman rustle next to her, but could only manage a nod in return.

"Goodnight, Myka," the soft whisper barely reached her ears.

/

"Sit down. Let me fetch you some water," Myka froze as she heard Helena's voice carry down the hall, followed by the sound of someone softly coughing.

She pressed her ear against her bedroom door, frowning. It wasn't that she had been waiting up for the other woman, or anything, she just happened to be quietly reading in her room. Near the door. And maybe listening- for Christina, of course.

"Here you are," Myka strained to hear her friend's voice.

"Thank you, Helena. I'm so sorry to impose on you like this," the decidedly female response came after a moment.

Myka froze, eyes widening. A woman? H.G. had been out, on a date, with some woman. And now she had brought her back to their house to do- _oh God. _

Myka had assumed that Helena was going out with a man. Somehow, that had made this whole night a little easier- Myka was able to remove herself from the situation. She also never expected Helena to bring anyone home.

Myka heard quiet murmuring coming from down the hall and felt a wave of nausea roll her stomach. What the fuck was she doing? Could she possibly be any more pathetic? Myka leaned her head against the door and balled her fists. She should just go to bed, put some headphones on and- okay, there was no way she was going to bed, obviously.

Before she knew what she was doing, Myka found herself opening her door and walking down the hall. This was stupid, so incredibly stupid, but maybe it was necessary. Maybe she could just make her presence known subtly and Helena's _date _would be on her way.

She turned the corner just in time to see a red-headed woman lean in and kiss Helena on the lips. She didn't hear the gasp fall from her own lips, but H.G. must have. The woman opened her eyes suddenly, breaking the kiss and staring at Myka. Their eyes met for only a moment as Myka turned and immediately retreated back to her bedroom.

Myka's breath came in ragged pulls as she crumpled into a pile on her bed. She didn't cry, surprisingly enough. There was a hollow feeling in her stomach that seemed to be growing larger with the second. Myka slammed her fist half-heartedly against her pillow a few times, trying to decide what the hell she should do.

"Myka," Helena's voice was accompanied by a gentle knock and Myka froze, "Mkya, I'm going to come in unless you tell me not to." Myka shot upright, smoothing the blankets she had bunched up in her anger. The door opened.

"Hello," Helena said quietly and, of course, the woman looked amazing. Myka had been trying not to notice before H.G. left for her date, but she was noticing now.

"I didn't mean to interrupt," Myka offered lamely, looking into her lap. Helena sighed.

"Yes," she stepped closer, "you did." Myka's gaze shot up.

"What? I didn't-" her voice raising as she stood up, "I didn't think I would walk in on the start of some- some _porn _in my kitchen." Helena pursed her lips and tilted her head, her expression unreadable.

"Why are you behaving this way?" H.G. asked her sadly.

"I just don't understand why you had to- to bring that _woman_ to our home," Myka couldn't stop the words, irrational though they were.

"Myka, that woman was my date," Helena gaped at her, crossing her arms, "I don't know about you, but I refuse to live my life in the shadows."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Myka scoffed.

"Oh, please," H.G. growled, "you know perfectly well what I'm talking about. When was the last time you went on a date? With anyone- male _or _female?"

Myka's eyes widened and she shook her head, too stunned to respond. Helena had said the thing she wasn't supposed to ever say. Myka had spent the past eight years building a precarious fortress and Helena's words could destroy everything.

"Damnit, Myka," Helena ran her hand through her hair, "I went on a date tonight with a lovely woman- she is beautiful and intelligent and interested in me- but I spent my whole sodding evening thinking about you."

"Me?" Myka managed to ask, still dazed. Helena shot her an annoyed look.

"Yes, _you. _What you would've thought of the film and what you would've ordered for dinner," she took a tentative step closer, "And whether we would hold hands as we walked to the train. And- and if your breath would hitch when I leaned in close to whisper at the cinema."

Myka's breath did hitch then as Helena grabbed her hand, grounding her, keeping her from running.

"I'm in _love _with you, Myka. I think, perhaps, I have been since I met you," Helena continued in a whisper, "And I think you love me, too, not just as a friend, but as _more_. I think you feel as I do- that you ache to be near me, to touch me. That you still remember the night I kissed you, there in the cool grass." Myka squeezed her eyes shut, unable to believe this was really happening.

"If I'm wrong, then say it- tell me," Helena was gaining steam and she moved impossibly closer, "But I believe that I'm right, and I don't understand why you won't let yourself feel this."

Helena tugged Myka's hand toward and laid it over her heart. She felt the erratic thumping under her fingertips for just a moment, before pulling away and turning around.

"Myka, if you call me, if you call _this,_ disgusting again I swear I will never speak to you again. And this time I shall follow through more thoroughly," there was an edge to Helena's voice that Myka hadn't heard in more than seven years.

Myka shook her head, "I won't, but..." She trailed off, not turning around.

"But what?" Helena asked, "I need you to talk to me." Myka shook her head and H.G. sighed.

"I came back here," H.G. began softly, "because I wanted you in my life- in _Christina's_ life- in any capacity. And so I tried to convinced myself that everything I thought you felt for me didn't exist. But, Myka, the way you look at me… it _burns_ me. So, tell me I'm wrong. Tell me that and I will drop this."

"You're wrong," Myka whispered, tears pulling at the corners of her eyes. She still had her back to the other woman.

"Tell me I'm wrong and _mean_ it," Helena repeated and Myka was frozen.

"Oh, Myka, I'm afraid you have broken my heart so many times that, one of these days, I won't have large enough pieces to stitch back together," Helena's voice trembled, "I wait and I wait for you, I've been waiting since I was sixteen-fucking-years-old, but I can't do it anymore. It's killing me, Myka- to see you with my daughter, to know how perfectly our lives fit together, but at the end of the night we go to our separate rooms. It's all too much." Myka's shoulders shook as she attempted to suppress the sobs bubbling up from her chest.

"I think you need to move out," H.G. choked out, "I'm sorry." Myka spun around finally at that, mouth hanging open.

"I'll take Christina to England on holiday- we can leave tomorrow," Helena nodded to herself, face tight, "Take as much time as you need. Just let Pete know when we should return."

"No," Myka breathed, shaking her head as tears ran down her face.

"No?" Helena asked incredulously, "No to _you_, Myka. I'm sorry, but I want my daughter to grow up with a strong role model and that is not what I've been. It seems that I'm nothing but weak when it comes to you. You can still see her, if you like, but you cannot see me."

"No," Myka repeated breathlessly, sinking back down onto her bed in defeat.

"Goodbye _again_, my love."

And with that Helena was gone and Myka was alone. She cried reflexively, barely able to process all that had happened in the past few minutes. After a while, the sobs subsided and Myka took ragged breaths, angrily clenching her jaw. She barely slept and, sometime around 4am, realized with a bitter laugh that Helena had been the only person to ever keep her up all night.

Consciousness hit Myka like a slap to her face and she sat up quickly. She had fallen into a dreamless sleep at some point during the night, not bothering to undress or slip beneath her covers. Grabbing for her phone, Myka was shocked to see that it was already 9am.

A cold dread crawled up from her belly- Helena would already be gone, she was sure of it. She pressed her palms firmly into her eyes, angry that she hadn't thought to set an alarm. She got up to check the house, disappointment settling deep within her bones as she was greeted by empty rooms. There was no note.

/

"Wow," Pete blinked rapidly, nodding his head.

"You already said that," Myka pointed out. She pulled her legs up onto the couch and wrapped her arms around them.

"Wow," Pete repeated.

"Pete," Myka warned before she inhaled deeply, "Are you really that surprised?" He shrugged, shaking his head.

"I don't know," he said, "Not exactly? I mean I'm not surprised you guys have a _thing_, or whatever, I guess I just never thought we'd actually talk about it."

"We don't have a thing," Myka muttered.

"So, this is why she left the first time, right?" Pete asked, ignoring her correction, "Something happened back then?"

"She kissed me," Myka admitted, looking away, "after prom."

"I knew it!" Pete shouted, looking triumphant.

"Pete, I'm in the middle of the most serious crisis of my life," Myka sighed, "so can you please keep the gloating to a minimum?"

"Right, sorry," he nodded apologetically, "So, she kissed you at that dickwad's party, and then what happened?"

"I completely freaked," she frowned, shaking her head, "and I said the most terrible things. God, looking back… I'm so ashamed."

"Hey," he said, moving to be closer to her, "it's okay, Mykes. You were young and probably really confused and overwhelmed. I just wished you would've told me then." Pete put an arm around her shoulders.

"I know, I just-" Myka paused, biting her lip, "I just couldn't. I'm barely doing it now."

"You're doing great," he squeezed her, "Ok, so let's keep moving. H.G. left and you guys didn't speak for like five years which, I'm not trying to judge here, but which _may_ have been a bit of an overreaction-" She bumped into his side roughly.

"Pete, you don't understand- I mean, yes, maybe it seems like an overreaction, but at the time it all felt so _huge._ Like, like I was barely in control of my own life and everything just hurt," her voice had quieted to a whisper, "It still hurts."

"But, why Myka?" He asked gently.

"Huh?" Her head snapped up to look at him.

"Why does it have to still hurt? Just last night, she told you she loves you, right?"

"It's not that simple," she looked down, rubbing the back of her neck.

"Isn't it?" He countered.

"I'm scared," she admitted, "I've been burying this for years, convincing myself that what happened that night in Bradford's backyard wasn't real. That I was drunk and Helena didn't really feel…" Myka trailed off. Pete looked at her with sympathetic eyes, but said nothing.

"And now," she continued after a moment, "how can she still love me? When I've hurt her so much? When I've been such a coward?" Pete shook his head.

"I don't know," he said simply and Myka frowned at him before he had the chance to continue, "I don't know _how_ love works, Mykes, I just know that it does." She softened at that and nuzzled into his side.

"I really should have talked to you back then, huh?" She sighed and felt him shrug beside her.

"Maybe," he said noncommittally, "but maybe this was the way it was all supposed to happen."

/

Myka took a deep, steadying breath as she walked up to a quaint front door; the English countryside really was just as picturesque as she had imagined it would be. She tried to peer inside the small window for signs of activity, but the curtain was drawn.

She withdrew the crumpled piece of paper from her pocket to, once again, check the address written in Pete's sloppy hand. This was definitely it, but there were no guarantees that Helena had come here again or that she was even home at this time of day.

Myka nodded to herself resolutely, pushing all the variables of how this could go awry out of her mind. She knocked firmly on the door and waited. She heard a few muffled footsteps approaching before the door was pulled open.

"Myka," Helena's expression was unreadable.

"Hi," she gave a little wave. H.G. crossed her arms and shook her head.

"What are you doing here?" She asked sadly.

"I missed you," Myka responded honestly and Helena closed her eyes, inhaling deeply.

"I'm sorry, but-"

"You were right," Myka interrupted, taking a step closer. Helena's eyes snapped open.

"What?"

"The other night- what you said," Myka swallowed, "You were right." Helena peered at her suspiciously.

"Myka, what are you saying?" She wondered and Myka could hear the hint of hope in her voice.

"What am saying is that you were right," Myka bit her lip, "about me." She took a deep breath and another step closer.

"Helena, I'm in love with you," she continued and Helena's eyes widened, "I have been since forever- definitely since that day you looked at me in my prom dress, in the dressing room, remember?- but probably before that. And I never stopped thinking about you while you were gone and I never stopped wanting you. And I'm such a coward, I know it, but I thought maybe- well I hoped that I wasn't too late?" Myka paused for a second to breathe, ready to launch into more of the speech that she'd practiced on the plane, but was now butchering horribly.

"And I-"

"Myka," Helena halted her.

"Yes?" She asked anxiously, wringing her hands.

"Would you please stop blathering on and kiss me already?" Myka gaped at Helena's wide smile for just a moment before stepping forward, a smile of her own forming. She took note of Helena's parted lips, the shortness of her breath, and felt a warmth spreading from within her chest.

She closed the distance between them, pressing her lips gently against the other woman's. All at once, it was too much and not enough. She remembered the last time they kissed and, in response to the memory, slipped her arms around the woman and pulled her close- she wasn't going to run this time.

Myka wasn't sure how long they stood there, making out like teenagers on her parents' front porch after a date. The kiss oscillated between tender and breathless, and Myka thought her heart might burst in her ribcage. After a while, Helena pulled away, her chest heaving.

"Finally," she said, pressing her forehead against Myka's.

"Better late than never?" Myka asked hopefully and Helena simply nodded, grinning. She pulled Myka into the house, leading her to the couch.

"Sit," she said, leaving Myka by the couch and walking off down the hall.

"Uh, Helena?" Myka called after her, but followed the instructions, "I kind of envisioned this differently? There was more kissing and less you walking away. Also, where's Christina?" H.G. returned after just a few moments, smirking.

"Trust me, love," she said, "there will be _lots _of kissing- Christina is with my brother for the afternoon. Read the dedication." She thrust a book into Myka's hands- it was her novel. Myka looked up, lifting one eyebrow. She opened the book and turned to the dedication.

_For Myka, the love of my life. I hope someday you will remove your mask for me._

Myka looked up at her, bewildered.

"What? I-" she sputtered, "When did you write this?"

"I wrote it the summer I left," Helena bit her lip, "after we kissed." Myka frowned.

"Really? Even though I was horrible?" She wondered, "Helena, I am _so _sorry." Helena waved her hands in dismissal.

"Myka, I know you better than anyone," she smirked, reaching out to pull Myka up off the couch, "and you've _always_ been a bloody awful liar." Myka chuckled and melted against the other woman.

"Will you let me make it up to you?" Myka breathed, leaning in close.

"Darling," Helena paused, kissing her soundly, "I can't wait."

**The end**

**Notes: **Thanks everyone for reading/commenting/etc! I hope you enjoyed it, I'm starting NaNoWriMo tomorrow so wanted to get this finished. Please, please, please give me any feedback- good or bad, because I feel like I might have rushed it and there's a chance I may come back to it in December. Also, there _could_ be a sexy epilogue, but I'm new to writing smut so I'm too nervous to rush it. Thanks again!


End file.
